Long Lost Loud: Revisited
by MarcellusMiro66
Summary: 33 years into the future, Ronnie Anne Santiago reflects back on the loss of her love Lincoln. (A POV AU of "Long Lost Loud" by Bouken Dutch 2.0)
1. Chapter 1

_Hi, everyone, **MarcellusMiro66** here! This is a **Loud House** short story and an extended AU version of **Bouken Dutch 2.0** 's " **Long Lost Loud** " from Ronnie Anne's POV. The first part owes a lot to that story, but it later takes on a distinctive style as it progresses. Plagiarism is not permitted, but nobody said anything about homages, right? Also, a few narrative plot points may or not be adjusted here, so you can consider it a standalone sequel if you want._

 _Enjoy! If you can..._

* * *

 ** _Part 1_** _:_ ** _" The Pointless Prologue"_**

 _It is now 22:45. I should probably get some sleep (my husband's already getting shuteye with the girl), but I can't. I know I have to, but I just...can't. Tomorrow is my 44th birthday and I expect my extended family to throw me a great big celebration in spite of their efforts to keep it secret and under wraps. This birthday celebration will allow me to live up to my maiden name: Santiago._ _For the first time in almost eight years, members of the family (excluding my deceased grandparents) will be in the same place again. Yes, even my mother and her new husband are traveling from their California condo. They practically insisted on being there to see their only daughter turn 44 even though they were in their 60's. Along with everyone's husbands and children, we expect close to 45 or even 55 people...yes, even the family who caused mine pain for almost three decades._

 _They're also the reason for no sleep kicking in high gear for me right now. Not on a particular moment like this. These moments are the ones my mind can linger on the one person who won't be there, no exceptions whatsoever. My best friend. My only friend. My only love. Lincoln Loud. So here I am, sitting in my living room holding one of the rare pictures left of him: a picture of the both of us from when we were 11. It was at the age when he vanished from our hometown, his family, and my life forever._

 _You want to know the story? Well, get settled; this one spans a total of 33 years. Mostly..._

 _Lincoln Loud was your typical preteen with your typical male-dominated interests such as video games, online games, comic books and manga. However, he was actually pretty unique. First, he was the only boy out of the 11 sisters he had (whether or not it was just a coincidence, it remains a mystery to this day). Second, he had hair white as snow; it was an unusual condition that affected many men on his mom's side of the family. Third, his primary talent was unclear. While all of his sisters had our own individual skills and won several prizes because of them, Lincoln was a more complex case complicated to crack; he helped us with everything we did, but it was never good enough to win a prize of his own, let alone a trophy. I remembered how he would talk about the family trophy case, but he would always assert that he was just happy for his sisters._

 _And they believed him._

 _ **I** believed him._

 _It was because of this that, for being basically the only family member with time on his hands, Lincoln was pretty much dragged into all of their activities. It gradually got worse, and the poor boy had barely any time for himself anymore as a result; the drastic increase in his sister's recreational activities didn't help matters. Of course, the ultimate and most infamous breaking point arrived in March 2017, where_ ** _–_** _after one too many days of family activity attendances_ ** _–_** _he attempted to avoid going to a baseball game of Lynn's, but she caught him in the act and basically forced him into coming. With a **fucking baseball bat**._

 _And that was where things went downhill **real** fast._

 _It pains me to this very day when I think of it. I was completely unable to help and comfort Lincoln in his time of need. Worse still, I never even knew the full story until it was too late. The short version? Lynn lost and, superstitious as she was, blamed it on Lincoln being bad luck. The long version? Lynn lost, blamed Lincoln for being bad luck, and unknowingly instigated a series of unfortunate events that led to my one friend reported missing (more on that latter). He must've saw an opportunity right there to get some free time because he virtually assisted in spreading the rumor, even going so far as to break one of Lori's golf clubs. Of course, in her fairness, she knew right away that this bad luck ruse was nothing but a sham and only went along with it to teach him a lesson. Unfortunately, the rumor soon spread like wildfire and his family began to eschew Lincoln as a whole. From the family activities that he really wanted to attend to the dinner table and, finally, the house itself. Yes, you heard that right. Lincoln's parents, a kind couple who ironically swore never to kick out any of their own kin, actually forced their one and only son to sleep outside like a homeless hobo. Making things worse was the fact they even sold pretty much all of his belongings, fearing they were affected with his bad luck._

 _The cherry on the sundae? I could do nothing but watch._

 _Watch as his entire life fall apart before my very eyes._

 _The following day, Lynn had yet another game, but this time Lincoln secretly attended in a squirrel mascot costume in an effort to dispel the lie of him being bad luck. Lynn won, Lincoln's plan worked, and knowingly began to think of him as good luck. As did the entire family, but only if he wore the suit._

 _In the three weeks that followed, a squirrel suit-donning Lincoln was treated as nothing more than a good luck charm. Every day and every night, the costume was worn, even if it was beginning to show its age and smell. The only time he didn't was during school,_ _but that meant they would avoid him in school out of fear for his bad luck. For the rest, he was required to attend every single big event me or my sisters participated in again (Lynn's games, Lola's pageants, Lisa's lectures, etc.) under the repeated warning that it was back outside for him should he ever dare to take the suit off at the given opportunity. As time went on, however, Lincoln had quite visibly changed for the worst. No smiles, no words, and no empathy. He only spoke when spoken to. The three sisters who actually gave a shit (Leni, Luna, and Lana) voiced their concerns on multiple occasions, but they continuously brushed them aside. Now they wished that they had listened to them then, and they hate themselves for taking part in it at all. They might have been able to prevent what happened at the end of the third week. Third time's the charm, right?_

 _Honestly, after everything that's happened...who wouldn't hate them?_

 _Anyway, the third week was when his family planned to go on a Dairy Land daytrip. The evening before the day they left, Lincoln suddenly showed up in the living room, carrying the suit but not wearing it. Lynn, his dad and some of our sisters (Luan and Lucy included) immediately demanded he put the suit back on, but this time Lincoln refused._

 ** _"This has gone on long enough. I'm not bad luck or good luck, and you know it."_** _Lori could remember him saying, after which he basically begged if we could stop this madness. Before his parents could even get a word out, Lynn leaped forward, shoved Lincoln back towards the stairs, and screamed at him the two options he had: **"Put the suit on now...or don't come tomorrow."** Gritting his teeth and reddening his cheeks, Lincoln took a third option instead. He took a deep breath, turned towards them and asked one last time if he could please come without having to wear the suit. When Mom reluctantly said no, Lincoln picked up the suit and walked up the stairs with it. Halfway through, he glanced over his shoulder and spoke only three last words._

 ** _"Have fun tomorrow."_**

 _He seemed...resigned._

 _Something in his voice indicated something wrong, and the look in his eyes should've them off. It was the look he always got when he had come up with one of his schemes. Then, after marching up to his room, he slammed the door behind him. And for them, it was the last time any of them saw Lincoln...even if they didn't realize it then._

 _How do I know all of this? Well, it's simple._

 _"Whori" told me the entire story from scratch._

 ** _(~****~)_**

 _The entire day I secluded myself in my room, avoiding my concerned brother and mother. Bobby was the one person besides her (my mother) and Lincoln who knew me better than anyone else, so naturally his big brother instinct came into play. When asked what was troubling me, the white-haired boy's name was the first thing that left my mouth. Clearly confused, he asked again, this time to elaborate. I explained that from what I knew, Lincoln was clearly not on good terms with his family as of the moment, all because of something involving him being a good luck or bad luck charm...or something like that. Bobby's own reactions to the reason for my issues were mixed at best, but concerns grew from the assumption that Lori may be in on the scam. Worried for me (as any older brother would or should), he promised to look into this, but not now; he had work to do._

 _As for myself, I was pretty much tired at this point, so I decided to take a nap and sleep the hours away. Little did I know (until I woke up, at least), I actually slept until dinner time. In the hours that passed, Bobby had actually discovered something: neither the family nor Lincoln himself were home, but so wasn't any memorabilia of the boy whom he considered a brother. He took me to the current empty house so I could investigate myself. Unlocking the front door with my decent paperclip techniques, I pushed it open and sprinted upstairs to the second floor. What I found shocked me almost to my very core._

 _The door to Lincoln's room was boarded up and bound with hazard tape. In the center was a note that read, quote: **"Sorry, Lincoln, but you can't sleep here tonight. We can't just risk it."** Amazingly enough, it was as if the rising anger allowed me to literally tear off the restraints that prevented me from entering, because that's just what happened. Of course, what I found inside didn't help matters._

 _The room was utterly empty. True to Bobby's words, not only was Lincoln not there, but what little remained of his personal belongings was completely gone as well. It was nothing but just a bare closet. Did Lincoln actually sleep in here? I heard my own gasp of shock escape my very mouth as I raced downstairs._ _At the same time, I noticed the trophy cabinet that Lincoln had repeatedly mentioned before had likewise been tampered with, namely the section which was reserved for **his** trophies. The small "Most Improved Brother" trophy his sisters made for him was gone, and so was Lincoln's name tag. It was now replaced with a nametag labeled "Rita and Lynn, Sr." and contained some of his dad's cooking prizes and his mom's writing awards._

 _The next few minutes were a doozy of a daze. I was wondering if this wasn't some cruel nightmare. As I stumbled downstairs, on the wall was a family photo for his parent's wedding anniversary earlier that year. Nothing seemed to be wrong...at first glance. The second glance was one I really took notice: a hole in the shape of Lincoln was where he used to be, carefully cut out of the picture._

 _As far as I can tell...every and any piece of evidence that Lincoln lived in the house had vanished._

 _My nose suddenly wrinkled at the smell of a presumed barbeque taking place right outside in the backyard. Heading in that direction to inspect it, I found a huge scorch mark and a pile of grey ash in the center of it all. A pair of cracked glass eyes stared right back at me in the pit of ashes. I knew they looked familiar the moment I plucked them out of the fireplace. They were undoubtedly the empty eyes of the squirrel suit._

 _Suddenly,_ _a Pitbull Terrier dog with small ears, a small nose, a black spot over his left eye, freckles and a black concentric circle on his back ran out of his doghouse carrying a burnt yet intact journal in his mouth. I recognized the dog as Charles, but what was the notebook he had? Placing it down at my feet, I picked up and opened it, identifying the logbook as Lincoln's own. Marching over to the stairs of the back porch with Charles in tow, I began to read._

 _I suddenly got to see a whole different side of the boy I loved and cared for as the surviving pages of the fire were read. The happy carefree brother/son of the Loud Family who also served as the go-to man with a plan turned out to have been suffering from depression and a severe case of the inferiority complex for approximately two years now. What finally pushed him over the edge had to be this bad luck/good luck fiasco, but it was just the tip of the iceberg overall. Unsurprisingly (to me, at least), being the only boy in the family made him feel like an outsider, a reject, and a social pariah coupled with the drastically growing feelings of inadequacy. There was also a page about something called a sister fight protocol, which involved confiscating his room, forcing him to sleep under dirty laundry, telling him that he solved everything by leaving the house, and most of all us ignoring him for a total of two weeks afterwards because he accidentally reignited the fight. I didn't like that so-called policy. Not one bit. The word **"SISTER"** should've rang warning bells in their thick heads._

 _I can recall the final page's quote even after all those years:_

 ** _This is it. I just gave them their last chance to accept me back in the family, and they refused. Guess they indeed finally realized what I myself have known for a long time; that I'm a burden to this family, and they are all better off without me. Well, if I'm going to be evicted from this family, then it better be on my own terms. Tomorrow morning, after they leave for Dairy land, I will put operation 'permanently-erase-myself-from-this-house-and-this-family-and-disappear-for-good-and-also-think-of-a-shorter-name-for-this-operation' into action._**

 ** _I'm not sure why I'm writing this down, since I'm going to burn this book along with the rest. Force of habit, I guess. But it doesn't matter, because after tomorrow, Lincoln Loud no longer exists!_**

 _Knowing what must be done, I bid Charles goodbye (I don't know, probably out of pity) and met with Bobby outside. I told him to immediately call the police after explaining everything I found: from the boarded-up door and the missing piece of the family photo to the incinerated squirrel suit and the journal that belonged to Lincoln. Following a moment's notice of hesitation, Bobby did just that as we both entered the car. All of a sudden, my eyes began to water up, and the cramping feeling boiling in my stomach for some time was one of despair and worry. It was a feeling that didn't go unnoticed by my brother, who_ _– upon parking in the driveway of our house_ _– pulled me into a hug. Being only a child at the time, I embraced him._

 _The next day, my mother visited the police station with her father (our grandfather) in attendance. We spent two hours there and the detectives in charge concluded that_ _– judging by the way Lincoln had the decency to actively prepare and think out his runaway situation_ _– this would be no other case, as most children were ill-prepared in the heat of the moment. As a result, they didn't get that far with no leads whatsoever; they could only assume that he was no longer in Royal Woods, or even in the state of Michigan. All we could do now_ _– as the AMBER Alert was sent out to every corner of the state – was sit, hope, and...pray._

 _I doubted God would answer our prayers or even mine, for Lincoln never came back._

 _Days became weeks._

 _Weeks became months._

 _Months become years._

 _No trace was detected._

 _I stood, doubted, and...cursed._

 _Lincoln was gone. Gone and never to be found._

 _Not that the others cared anyway (at first)._


	2. Chapter 2

_Two months following Lincoln's disappearance, my mom found a nursing job in Chicago, where my extended family was running a small-time business that made largely successful. She had been planning to make this move for some time now, saying that Bobby and I needed to take a break from Royal Woods for the time being. Honestly though, after what had happened for the past months, neither Bobby nor I objected._

 _The truth about what Lincoln's family did to him never got out, but people still knew (or, at the very least, strongly suspected) we were somehow responsible in a fashion. One by one, their respective friends at school turned their backs on them. Lynn was banned from all her sport teams, otherwise she would most likely be removed with force anyway. Lola in return was banned from attending her pageants, and the same applied to Luan and her funny business. His parents got off easier, but they too noticed people were starting to keep their distance from them. Of course, most of their friends were sympathetic for the most part due to Lincoln's disappearance and the effect it had on his regretful family, but they chose to stay away out of pity. His best friends Clyde, Liam, Rusty, and Zach were arguably the worst offenders of this; their respective girlfriends Haiku, Tabby, Polly Pain, and Giggles also expressed their condolences for them, for Lincoln had worked diligently to make their earlier school dance a blast_ _– the result of which was caused by four of his sisters, no less._

 _By the time summer came around, I was solemn and cynical. As much as I wanted to have fun like the other kids, I was too depressed and focused on Lincoln to even leave my room. Well, actually, it was less of a focus and more of an obsession, for I had built a makeshift shrine of him after our move. Needless to say, Mom was considering hiring a child psychologist, but my eldest cousin managed to talk her out of it. Carlota was practically my Leni, due to her passion for fashion, but she wasn't as ditzy as she was. She was also a kind and charitable person, having donated any clothes she no longer wore. Anyway, she was the one who managed to spur me out of my funk and convinced me to make some friends in order to fill the gap. Thus, how I met the (not-so-)terrible trio known as Nikki, Sameer, and Casey; we were joined by a fourth (or was it fifth?) member known as Jeff, who was a middle school student from Seashore Town or something like that. I don't know how, I don't know why..._

 _I fell in love again._

 _And I hated it._

 _No, I didn't hate the fact that I fell in love with Jeff caused me to forget about Lincoln in a moment, but rather the fact that I fell in love with one boy caused me to move on from the other in an instant. I wasn't ready to move on from my first love, but Carlota taught me that it was an integral part of life, as it allowed you to let go of past mistakes and faults. In other words, if you truly loved someone, you should set them free. I never accepted the truth until now, but I gave a lie some consideration for now._

 _I made the best of my continued life as I could, but at least I had three friends (and one crush) to help through it. Nikki and Sameer taught me skateboarding, Casey taught me BMX skills, and Jeff taught me martial arts; specifically, he learned Jeet Kune Do, Shaolin Kung Fu, and Kali-Eskrima-Silat from a friend who specialized in fencing and swordsmanship. Over time, Jeff and I grew closer and closer until the inevitable happened_ _– I confided my deepest and darkest secret to him. When he first learned of my predicament concerning Lincoln, he was surprisingly calm and understanding about it...and also tactful about the next words he spoke to me. It was more or less a more complex version of the speech Carlota gave me, but also with the slightest hint that if I wasn't ready to move on just yet, it was her choice and her choice only._

 _Then I kissed him._

 _It was a simple kiss, but it was a simple moment that would change my life forever._

 _One moment I was in Heaven..._

 ** _(~****~)_**

 _The next I was in Hell._

 _My mother's green card had expired and needed to be renewed. In the meantime...I had to go back. Back to Mexico._

 _Nikki, Sameer, Casey, and Jeff with the help of the Casagrandes arranged a goodbye party for me and my family. The latter in particular asked me to dance one more time before we left. I admit it was really sweet, even if it was really cheesy. Our second kiss was exchanged with a certain kind of warmth that dared went up against the cold storm ahead. Need proof?_ _The day we left, I received a text message from him. I left America with a hopeful smile..._

 _...and entered Mexico with a cynical frown [masking it]._

 _Our house was two stories instead of one and a few feet from the traditional Mexican slums. I had to attend an academy and wear a uniform consisting a black short-sleeve blouse with a white CeCe collar, a wine-red skirt, and a pair of black Mary Jane flats. So far so good, the presence of so-called tough guys and girls were not known. Things were actually looking up for me, for the first week of my new school was also the first week of my new life._

 _As it turns out, I was recruited into a street gang of sorts_ _–_ _well, actually, I stumbled upon it before being_ _recruited into it. They had more in common with a mod squad than anything else, considering that the members were primarily teens, preteens, and young adults. Essentially, they work for a group of the few honest police officers who in turn were aligned with the DEA. Their job was to root out corruption in the Mexican government and attend to victims of human trafficking, with a particular emphasis on the underage. In all fairness, their goal seemed a little farfetched and a lot like something of a superhero/spy/police procedural film or TV series, but I couldn't help be drawn to their devotion to justice. So who was I to decline the invitation?_

 _Wearing a blue denim jacket above my school uniform, I met with a visiting Hispanic teenager from Echo Creek, California. Marco Diaz was a vigilante who worked for the police department in a capacity and hunted down school bullies of the sort; one such case involved him impersonating a made-up serial killer who was the subject of one particular group who was responsible for the death of his former sweetheart. This made me think of Lincoln again. What if he was the one murdered and I was the one avenging his death? Did that mean I was a monster seeking revenge on other monsters? A wise person once said: **"He who fights monsters should see to it that he himself does not become a monster. And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you."**_

 _Man, I have to stop watching superhero movies._

 _Anyway, I met Marco at the train tracks, where he stood hidden by the locomotives and had a small box into his hands. Inside was a factory black, semiautomatic Beretta 92FS. Like all handguns chambered in 9x19mm, it can hold 15 rounds of ammunition and also (depending on the type of handgun you have) had external safety so I wouldn't shoot myself. A beginner's pistol as Marco called it, I was somewhat offended by the fact that he apparently dubbed me "a beginner". The first gun I handled was actually a Remington 870 Police Magnum Riot shotgun._

 ** _(~****~)_**

 _And so, I led a secret double life as a secret bounty hunter...and I couldn't be gladder. I kept in touch with my extended family, Jeff, and the others with FaceTime while navigating through my already turbulent school life and my aforementioned bail recovery profession. Speaking of which, I managed to score approximately 15 to 20 kills in the span of a week, making myself the youngest recruit to have the most in such a short amount of time. Even so, in spite of my accomplishments, I still haven't moved on Lincoln. The only way I could possibly resolve my trauma was to confront the source of it. But how was I supposed to face him when I can't even find him?_

 _The answer was: I didn't have to._

 _Lincoln Loud was standing a few feet from me, his eyes locking with mine._

 _In one hand was a bloodied combat knife. In the other was a smoking SIG-Sauer P226R._

 _We were 15 to 20 years old at the time._

 ** _"You're here..."_**

* * *

 _ **A/N** : So, I was inspired by **Bouken** 's review to go off in my own direction and quote "surprise him". The end result involved Ronnie Anne indeed living with the Casagrandes, but only for a short amount of time; she, her mother, and Bobby are deported to Mexico in a cruel twist of fate. However, with three new friends and a new crush supporting her, she is determined to keep her head up in the wake of her new surroundings. Not only that, but she also joins a low-key vigilante group who dole out justice for the innocent._

 _Yeah, the circumstances may seem a little farfetched, but I wanted to take risks concerning this story. Whether or not the risk paid off is entirely up to you... **Bouken**._


End file.
